This was enough for the poor widow. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. "Rowland," she rejoined, "you strive in vain to terrify me into compliance with your wishes. There came to O'Higgins the discouraging knowledge that upon the heels of a wonderful chase—blindman's buff in the dark—would come a stretch of dull inaction. You bring me this grandfather, whom you know well I do not in the least wish to see, for I have told you so. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. That turned her mind to the more generalized aspects of her perplexities again. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. ’ ‘And you believe her?’ asked Lucilla, raising her brows. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy. “I believe that he would bore me. ” “She invited me to dinner anyway.
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